Thank you for stopping by my blog. I am on a journey of self discovery.
This includes, faith, family, health, wellness, essential oils and more. If you like something, share it, if you have a comment, post it, if you don't like something - sorry.
Check out my website www.wholehealth.vibrantscents.com
or my husband's and my business page www.totaldisplays.com
Blessings, Peace Abundance to all
Enter your email below to follow my blog.

Sign Up Here for a Free White Paper On Essential Oils

Friday, July 21, 2017

Recently I saw a post from a Dad about his daughter. The post was as follows."Hello, all!This is Susie Q's new hair color! Nice and normal! She wants to color it Orange! Yes, orange! Please "like" her hair color, now! May-be with lots and lots and lots of "likes", she will keep it this color, and not orange!"

I responded, perhaps a bit tongue in cheek, "I'm confused - aren't you the parent? Tell her no." I did put a winking face on the post, but got this reply:

😁 Lori, it's 'Susie Q!' We have talked about it. She's a great student and is involved with so many things at 'some private school'...... So I pick my battles! 😁Doing pretty good as a parent, if the only thing in her life, I have problems with, is her hair color! 😀

Others commented on his post that he was a great parent and many others voted for the orange.I was a little taken aback by the whole thing. It is an interesting concept isn't it? We hear this a lot, "Pick your battles". Maybe I'm old, maybe I'm old fashioned. My parents didn't pick their battles. They were in charge. Keep in mind at the time of the posting, the young lady was under 18 and living at home.Why are we afraid to tell our children no? Are we friends or parents? Do we think that they won't like us?Do you think that some of this kind of attitude is contributing to the lack of respect some of the younger generation has these days? No, orange hair is not a huge thing. But where does it start and where does it end?Who is really in charge?

Friday, July 14, 2017

It has been a year since you left us. I still miss you terribly. I still look for you.

I remember the day we brought you home. Your sweet little raccoon face. David dropped me off at the pet adoption and parked the car with Elsie. When he walked in the door he saw me holding you and knew that it was all over. He knew you were coming home with us.

We named you Murphy. Murphy's law followed you everywhere. You were a little terror when you were younger. Poor old man Casey. You terrorized him to no end. You just wanted to play and Casey just wanted to sleep.

The house seems empty, I look for you all the time.

Towards the end of your life, we had to sometimes carry you outside. We fed you rice, people food, wet dog food, eggs. We would look for anything that you would eat. Sometimes you would go days without eating. Every day you got weaker my heart broke a little more. We never wanted you to suffer. I still saw your heart in those big brown eyes. You would look at me and follow me around the room with your eyes.

We lathered you with Young Living's Peace and Calming essential oil. Once you had that on, your breathing would seem easier and you would rest. Even to this day, I smell you when I smell Peace & Calming. I know it made your last days easier.

The last couple of days, I would prop your head up on a pillow and lie on the floor next to you. I would pet your ears. You loved to have your ears rubbed. You would bury your head between our legs and snuggle. That was your snuggle.

The house is no longer full of large clumps of your under coat. Holy cow you shed ALL THE TIME. With the Elk Hound undercoat you could pull masses of hair out of you. In the Spring the birds loved it. They would come down on the deck to add to their nests while I brushed you.

You marched to your own drum. Man, you were pig headed. You would come when you wanted and ignore us when you didn't want to come. You were the alpha male. When we would throw the tennis ball, you had no interest in actually getting it. You just wanted to be sure that Lucy didn't get it. You would charge at her and she would drop the ball and lay down on her back to let you have it. She loved you! She would lick your face and your ears with her tail wagging a hundred miles an hour.

You could NOT be outside when the kids were sledding. You would run after them, pull their mittens off and playfully nip at their heals. When Elsie was a toddler I actually hit her in the head with a tennis ball. She was running up the hill and you were playfully nipping at her heals. I meant to throw the ball at you (not hard) to get you to stop. I hit her instead. I was never a softball player! You NEVER hurt the kids. It was just your way of playing.

You often thought you were a lap dog. You were 55 pounds of a mack truck like dog but you were a lover. So many times you would jump up on Elsie and try to lay in her lap. You would scratch her legs but you would curl up in a ball to be on her lap.

You did learn to love Porter again. When Porter was a toddler, he would lay on you. He might have occasionally annoyed you a bit. You kept away from him for a few years. Although there were times at night, after we had all gone to bed, when Porter would let you up on the sofa. You weren't supposed to be on that sofa, but he would be up late and you would crawl up there to snuggle with him. The last 3 or so years you reconnected with him! He was so excited.

You loved the water. When we used to go up to our lake home, you would go out in the water and just lie down. I am sure you were hot with all that fur and it must have felt great. You would stick your entire head under water chasing something in your imagination. The smell of wet dog. Nothing like it and with all your fur? It took forever to dry.

One place you really despised? Vets. It didn't matter how nice they were or what they were doing, you wanted no part of it. We routinely had to muzzle you when we would go. I had to do the muzzling, you sure wouldn't let them do that.

When you were younger you had a lump on your side. I took you to the vet. It was just simply never a pleasant experience. They looked at it, looked at you, took some samples and I waited. I waited, by myself in that room and my mind started to go crazy. I called David and said, "What if it is cancer?". I waited some more. I will never forget the feeling in my stomach when they finally came back after what seemed like an eternity. It was cancer. Somehow I knew. The big C word. A dog is part of our family. What in the world would we do? Would you die?

They told me it was one of 3 kinds. 1. Benign, 2. Could Re-occur, 3. It Would Kill You. They had to remove it and do biopsies to find out.

Your memory is an amazing thing. When I close my eyes I can remember being in that room with you. I remember the sounds, I remember the smells. I remember burying my head in your fur and crying with worry. You comforted me more than I comforted you.

They removed the mass and then came the dreaded CONE period. Oh my, you hated it, just like every other dog on the planet. You were big and clumsy. Running into doors, walls. And of course, then, more waiting. This did not kill you. It was the second type and it never came back. You were too strong and stubborn to let it come back.